


Help! Him

by deeblue



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Awkward George, Crying, Hugs, Hurt and comfort, Insecurity, John is insecure about his weight, M/M, Paul is sassy and emotional, it's happy I promise, mild arguing with George and paul, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 17:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeblue/pseuds/deeblue
Summary: John feels insecure about his weight, and Paul wants to help him, but it looks like he is going to need some help. George and Ringo most definitely want to make sure John's okay, and be there for him.





	Help! Him

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as Mclennon, but I suppose it could be read as poly, whatever you want, or makes you comfortable. :)

“Come on’ John, you look fine.” Paul murmured careful against the locked bathroom door.

“You always look handsome love, please come out…” For hours, Paul has been trying to calm John down after Brian had delivered their new Beatle suits to debuted at a American press conference this evening, but John- once he had slipped it off the hanger became immediately apprehensive.

Paul had insisted John looked perfectly fine. Still as gorgeous as always, but his boyfriend was not receptive, which wasn't his fault of course. John had been growing increasingly self conscious in the past months. The tabloids had crudely deemed him as the “fat Beatle”. Paul couldn't see it at all.  _ His John _ didn't deserve such lashings from the media. Paul nearly had a fit in the car when George had silently brought it to his attention. Of course, John had ended up hearing it for himself, and it only pushed him into a deeper depression.

Paul attempted to quell these thoughts with reassurance, especially when they would make love, John would clearly become uncomfortable with removing his shirt, which was never an issue in the past. It broke Paul’s heart to see his lover so upset… so lost in his own insecurity.

These new suits though… they sparked something in John. It had been hours, and John had locked himself in the bathroom. He still hadn’t uttered a word.

Paul was desperate- he could bare knowing how damaging this American tour had been for John. With the “Jesus Scandal”, and John’s brash apology. The tour and media was determined to tear John apart, and Paul was worried it was working.

“J-Johnny?” Paul pleaded. His voice nearly lost between the door. He hadn't even noticed he was pressing against the door till’ his knees began to give out, and he slowly slid down the pane of it and onto the floor. 

The only answer Paul received was the sound of the water faucet being turned on.

John was drowning Paul out- pushing him away.

Paul’s tears pooled over his eyes, and he stood up leaving the bedroom. He stalked into the suite’s common room where his fellow bandmates sat comfortably at the kitchenette.

“Any luck?” George sipped, looking back to Paul who seated himself beside the counter. He was all red eyed, but remnants of wetness on his cheek was clear as day.

“None… he- he won't even listen anymore. He’s got the tap running so he can’t hear me.”

“It’s been hard on im’ Paul, you of all people have seen what these months have done.” Ringo lamented.

“I know… it’s just… he doesn't want my help anymore fellas. He wants to be left alone.”

“When has John ever been safe left alone?” George grumbled. Paul knew what George meant past that rough delivery. John always needed comfort no matter how much he pushed away, In the end, being alone made things worse. John was no good with introspection. It only led to even more pain for him as he succumbed to his low self esteem.

“What do you want me to do George? Huh! He’s shut me out! It- It’s never been this bad before. He doesn’t need me...”

George down cast his eyes. Upsetting Paul was not his intention, they were all worried about John, but Paul was obviously sensitive, John was his boyfriend after all. He felt his pain, seeing him hurting wasn't good for him, and John wasn't being receptive at all to Paul’s attempts.

This only made the severity of the situation more clear to George, John needed more. Not just Paul, and whether he liked it or not, he was going to get it.

“Get up. Both of you.” 

“He  _ does _ need you Paul, your his love, but- maybe he needs more. I think he need us, all of us. His family.”

Paul blinked at the guitarist. “What if he-”

“He can’t drown all three of us out, okay Paul?” George stated, placing hands on either side of Paul shoulders, framing his face.

George’s eyes were clear, but not stern. They just spoke what he couldn’t say. He wanted Paul to give it a chance.

When George released Paul’s shoulders, the bassist had more footing on him and nodded. Without question, Paul led the way back to John and his own bedroom. Ensuring George and Ringo followed suit.

Paul felt timidity return to him when he found the door exactly as he left it. Ringo leaned beside Paul and took his hand to give a soft assuring squeeze.

That was enough to push Paul to knock on the door.

“John love?” Paul could barely get the words out, he had no idea if John was listening. George stepped up to the door next, before Paul could say anything more.

“We’re all here John, Ringo too.” George hadn’t been entirely sure what to say. Paul probably gave him plenty of heartfelt stuff, maybe John needed a new approach.

“Hey mate, none of us really think the suits are any good- stripes don't flatter much of anybody.”

An abrupt thud sounded at the door. George flinched back, John probably threw something. 

Okay, maybe that wasn't the  _ best _ approach…

George awkwardly looked back at Paul and saw the wrath of McCartney about to boil over.

“Are you out of yOUR FUCKING MIND?” Paul was squeezing Ringo’s hand like mad, and his snarl was aimed directly at George. “HOW WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO HELP? STRIPES GEORGE? THE DAMN  _ STRIPES _ ?”

Ringo pried his hand loose from Paul while he berated George, who was nearly flushed with embarrassment. He leaned against the door, pressing his ear close. He swore he could hear something, and not just the sound of the water running...

“I was just trying something!” George directed his hands to the shut door. 

“Well great George, what would we do without your great sense of humor at a time like this!”

“I wasn't trying to be funny, Paul-”

The two spared at each other, neither one backing down. Paul’s hands were shaking, he was holding in another wave of tears. Paul shoulnt have went along with this. If John didn't want  _ his _ help, why in hell would he want George’s? 

George refused to take Paul’s crap, regardless, he wasn't the only one who wanted to look out for John. They were a band. They were friends. All George could do was try his best, but Paul was way too defensive of him.

The more the yells escalated, the harder it was for Ringo to hear into the bathroom, but he had an idea of what was going on. From the sounds of it they ought to get the door open soon, very soon.

“Hey lads, I think John might be-”

The two barely pais any mind to the drummer, far too focused on their own self absorbed pissing contest to really listen. George whipped to face Ringo, and shook his head. “Ringo don’t get in-.”

Before George could follow up, the room fell into complete silence, the thick air of intensity left behind was suffocating. The door handle had rattled, and swung open abruptly to reveal a sight for sore eyes… which was literally two very sore eyes.

“Crying.” Ringo sighed.

John’s face was practically soaked, eyes puffy. He looked tired, like an absolute wreck. The edge of his shirt collar was damp, and his loose robe was hung off his left shoulder. Behind him the suit could be seen crumpled in the bathtub.

“You two thought arguin’ like animals was going to get my arse out of the bathroom?” John croaked, turning round to shut off the faucet. Paul immediately felt guilt bury him alive. Ringo was right. John had been crying back there. John hadn't turned the tap on to drown out Paul, he was drowning out himself

“We were- I hadn't. I mean… it worked didn't it?” George had never felt more awkward it his life, but he was in disbelief at the John who was now before them. A sad, yet angry John, who was  _ crying. _

Tears were endlessly streaming down his face. John had been emotional before, but when they had been younger. It had been years since Paul had seen John cry. Let alone George or Ringo.

“Well, your all just doing a fine job at that- I’m out, happy? Now what? Just wanted to see ol’ Lennon cry then? Bet your real fucking proud of your- mmpf!”

John suddenly felt a warm embrace. Out of nowhere, Ringo had his arms wrapped completely round’ John’s waist. Stray hand rubbing at his back through his thin T-shirt.

“R-Ringo, what are-?” John was unprepared for such physical attention, but couldn’t quite bring his hands up to push him away.

“Shh. Shut up a second John.” Ringo’s eyes were watering on John shoulder, and the look of John tense face falling down into solemn tears was enough for both George and Paul to see that Ringo knew what he was doing.

When Paul wrapped John up as well, hand coming up to stroke his hair. John fell apart.

His three band mates held him there, and soon all of them were stricken with sobs. The Beatles weren't holding him. “The Cute One” wasn’t currently pressing his forehead to John’s. “The Quiet One” wasn’t gripping the back of his shoulders for comfort. Of course not. “The Funny One” most definitely wasn't whispering soft reassurances while crying into his neck. 

George wiped at his eyes, completely blurred and out of focus. “We got you okay? We got you. We all cry, see?”

John choked through a sob. “Your all a bunch a sappy gits, ya know that?”

The other three chuckled.

They knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! ComMENts maKe mE so HappY!!! ;;o;;


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